


Rule #1

by ThirtySixSaveFiles



Series: Walk Walk Fashion Baby [2]
Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Model AU, probably unrealistic depictions of the modeling industry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 17:20:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7810603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirtySixSaveFiles/pseuds/ThirtySixSaveFiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a fashion photographer, Rhys has some rules he tries to live by. He's about to break the first one in the biggest way.</p><p>Modern-day Model AU, where the Lawrence brothers are some of the hottest names in the business and Rhys is an up-and-coming photographer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rule #1

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely [Jillus'](http://jillus.tumblr.com) fault.

As an up-and-coming fashion photographer, Rhys works with a lot of pretty people. He has a simple rule to help him navigate this world, passed down to him from his mentor in the business, that simplifies a lot of interactions.

_Rule #1: Don’t sleep with the models._

It’s laughably simple, and so obvious that Rhys had in fact laughed the first time he had heard it. He’s grown up a bit since then, however, and he’s seen other photographers mix business and pleasure, usually to a bad end. A bit of flirting greases the wheels in this business, and Rhys can certainly appreciate beauty in all its forms, but at the end of the day he prefers to keep things professional.

Then he meets Jack Lawrence, and Rule #1 goes out the window.

After that, to ease his conscience, Rhys tries a couple of revisions. 

 

* * *

  _Revision 1: Don’t sleep with a model more than once._  

* * *

 

That’s an abysmal failure. 

 

* * *

_Revision 2: Don’t sleep over at the model’s place._

* * *

 

He doesn’t mean to; he just sort of...falls asleep, and Jack _lets_ him. He doesn’t realize what’s happened until he’s blinking awake in the morning, with Jack’s stupidly perfect face swimming into focus.

He’s even handsome in his sleep, which is just _unfair._

 

* * *

_Revision 3: Don’t let the model stay over at_ your _place._  

* * *

 

Again, he doesn’t mean to, but he turns his head to the side as he’s catching his breath and sees Jack with his face half-buried in Rhys’ cheap pillowcase, mouth stretched in a lazy grin, and something seizes up in Rhys’ chest. Jack cracks a stupid joke, and Rhys laughs, which eases the tightness in his chest somewhat, and it suddenly seems absurd to make Jack get up and _leave_ when he’s clearly quite comfortable where he is.

The tightness is back the next morning, though, when Rhys shuffles out of the bedroom to find Jack making pancakes in Rhys’ tiny kitchen. Rhys stands stock still, blinking - he had thought that Jack surely would have left by _now_ \- but when he ventures to ask Jack waves dismissively and says his morning’s free and besides, he was hungry, and what kind of heathen uses _butter_ -flavored syrup instead of real maple, anyway?

They eat pancakes in Rhys’ cramped little apartment and Rhys tries desperately to pretend to himself that this is just casual. 

 

* * *

_Revision 4: Don’t blow the model before a shoot._

_Addendum: Don’t blow the model before a shoot because his brother is running late and he says it’ll give him that nice relaxed glow even if the thrill factor of almost getting caught makes it fucking incredible, Jesus Christ._

* * *

 

This one is entirely Jack’s fault.

Tim’s running late, and it’s not a Lawrence brothers shoot if it doesn’t have _both_ Lawrence brothers, so the crew are taking their time setting up and chatting and generally not paying attention. Jack draws Rhys over to a side hallway, then into a supply closet and the line “I know you hate how Michaela does makeup, so you know what would put real color in my cheeks? A blowjob” just _shouldn’t_ be convincing at all, and yet here Rhys is, on his knees in front of Jack with only a flimsy closet door and a corner between them and the entire production crew.

Rhys is slightly ashamed of how easily he was talked into this, but that’s been the theme of this whole _thing_ with Jack, hasn’t it? Jack makes the outrageous sound reasonable, spins the world around himself like it was created to serve him, and Rhys isn’t immune - is staggeringly weak to it, in fact. And when he has Jack’s cock heavy on his tongue, rolling his eyes up to see Jack’s crooked smile and hooded eyes, he feels something warm and dangerous unfurling in his chest.

(And yes, this exercise _is_ painting a healthy flush across Jack’s cheekbones, but he doesn’t have to look so smug about it.)

There’s the the murmur of approaching voices, and then the distinctive _click_ of heels on the hallway outside the door, and Rhys tenses. Adrenaline floods his body but it mixes with the thrill building in his stomach and the resulting high is lighting up his nerves. He is _fucked_ if they get caught like this, but Jack just smooths a thumb over his cheek, rubbing it across Rhys’ lips where they’re stretched around his cock and murmurs, “keep going,” and Rhys does, flying high and letting Jack come down his throat with a muffled groan.

He doesn’t even mind that Jack doesn’t get him off then, instead pulling Rhys to his feet and kissing him thoroughly. Rhys shudders to imagine Jack tasting himself on Rhys’ tongue, and Jack’s eyes when he pulls back are dark and satisfied.

Then Rhys’ phone vibrates with a text from Tim with an ETA of 15 minutes. “Later,” Jack promises, and then it’s time to get back to work.

(Jack heads out first. Rhys needs a few minutes to collect himself and will down his dick.)

 

* * *

_Revision 5: Don’t call the model in the middle of the night because you can’t sleep and one of your pillows smells like him._

* * *

 

Rhys tosses and turns, but despite his exhaustion he can’t get comfortable in his own bed. It’s too cold, for one thing, in a way that has nothing to do with the heat wave sweeping the city. He rolls over to what’s become Jack’s side when he stays over, and when he puts his head on the pillow it still smells faintly of Jack’s stupid expensive shampoo.

Rhys turns his head to look at his phone charging on the night stand. He has Jack’s number. It’s not _that_ late. Maybe.

Rhys manages to stick to this rule, but only just barely, and when he finally does fall asleep it’s restless.

 

* * *

_Revision 6: Don’t fall in love with a model._

* * *

 

The day Rhys realizes he’s in love with Jack Lawrence, world-famous model and obnoxious asshole, is an otherwise ordinary Tuesday. He’s shooting Jack for a fall collection - Jack always requests Rhys as his photographer these days, and he has enough pull to get what he wants in this regard - and when Jack pulls a military-inspired turtleneck over his head he disrupts the stylist’s careful arrangement of his hair. Rhys is checking light levels, and when he turns around Jack has a comical look of dismay on his face as he gingerly touches the disarranged locks. Rhys smiles to himself, and something seems to snap into place in his chest and Rhys thinks _oh shit._

This is beyond breaking Rule #1. This is so far past Rule #1 that Rhys can’t even see it anymore.

Well. Shit. What is he supposed to do now?

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [ThirtySixSaveFiles](http://thirtysixsavefiles.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


End file.
